MiSTing: A Day in the Life (1/3)
Chris Mayfield
constructive criticism. Is it funny? Are my references too
obscure? Etc. Thanks. Chris Mayfield camf...@iastate.edu]
[General opening antics]
[SOL. The lights are dimmed and in the background is a banner
saying łDunkerton 3rd Grade Piano Recital.˛ On the desk is Tom
Servo in a tux, sitting at a baby grand. Crow enters into the
shot.]
Crow: Next up is Tommy Servo, son of John and Shiela Servo.
Tommy has been taking lessons fromŠ
Mike: [walking on] Hi, everybody. Uh, Crow, whatąs Tom doing?
Crow: Heąs going to play the piano.
Mike: No heąs not.
Crow: Yes he is.
Mike: No heąs not. His arms are inoperable. [Crow shakes his
head] No, heąs not going to--[Turns to camera.] Weąll be right
back. [turns and argues with Crow. Go to commercials.]
[When we return from the commercials, the lights are back up and
Tom is talking to Mike.]
Tom: So Mike, what did you think of my performance?
Mike: It was veryŠinteresting. What was the name of the piece
again?
Tom: 4ą33.
[light blinks]
Crow: Uh, Mike, Cage and Glass are calling.
[Deep 13. Dr. Forester is looking at the camera. Behind him is a
desk with various computer stuff on it. Frank is busy typing
away.]
Forester: Hello there, Van Cliburn. Frank and I were just about
to start our plan for world domination. Frank?
Frank: Thanks, Clayton. Will Rogers once said, łEverybody talks
about the Internet, but nobody does anything about it.˛ Well,
this week weąve come up with a way to take over the world using
the Information Superhighway. Itąs based on those annoying chain
letters that people continually post. Dr. Forester?
Forester: Thank you, Frank. I call it TAKE.OVER.FAST. We have
culled ten random names from the phone book. Then we post the
names to ten newsgroups on the Internet. The recipients of the
post conquer the person whose name is at the top of the list.
Then they move everyone else on the list up one spot, add their
name to the #10 spot, and post it to ten more newsgroups.
Frank: Our estimates show that in 20 to 60 days weąll be
receiving either $50,000 or control of Alabama.
Forester: As for you, Space Ace, weąve got another abominable
fanfic from alt.startrek.creative. Hope it goes down hard.
[SOL]
All: Weąve got fanfic sign! Aaaaaaaah!
[Door sequence. 6Š5Š4Š3Š2Š1Š]
[Mike and bots enter the theatre]
This is an automated reposting of fiction from the alt.startrek.creative
archives.
This is archive file: story/tng/David_Sutton/ADayInTheLife.zip
Any comments, questions, etc. about the archives may be
addressed to j...@tivoli.com.
=====================================CUT HERE===================================
[story/tng/David_Sutton/ADayInTheLife.zip] comment:
Tom: It sucks.
Mike: We donąt know that yet.
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>
> We's be having a little trouble
Crow: With ours grammer.
> with the net recently.
> Here's my submission of a short story for everyone's
> enjoyment. the message says to send it here. So be it!
> A Day in the Life of...
Crow: Ivan Denisovich!
Tom: Leopold Bloom!
Mike: Sgt. Pepperąs Lonely Heartąs Club Band!
> Lt. jg. Ptzzrr Frageilux
All: Oh.
> Tactical Officer, U.S.S. Trafalgar NCC-1760, Gamma Shift
>
> Historian's Note: This takes place during Fifth season
> of ST:TNG
Crow: Whatąs that on the Jewish calendar?
> There was that annoying chiming noise again.
Tom: Stupid olą doorbell. I hate you.
> It had
>haunted her through her dreams and now it pursued her into the
>realm of the living.
Crow: Jehovah Witnesses. You just canąt escape Śem.
> With a conscious effort she clenched her
>hand into a fist, a green scaled gauntlet of defiance. She then
>smashed it into the wall console, scattering plastic around the
>floor. The chiming noise ceased.
Mike: Remember kids, violence is the answer.
> "I hate mornings..." she commented to no one.
> Lt. Ptzzrr
Crow: Pat, Iąd like to buy a vowel
> Frageilux raised her body off the warm stone slab,
>removing the gravel-textured covers as a groggy afterthought.
>Sheimmediately began heading for the shower,
All: [high pitched Psycho noises]
> set for high-sonic
>followed by a light rinse of water. She let the high vibrations
>clear the sleep from her mind.
Tom: Along with any trace of intelligent thought.
> "Computer, give me time and
>schedule."
> The computer answered without question.
Mike: Letąs all just enjoy that sentence.
> "Ship's time is now
>2213 hrs. Your shift begins at 2400 hrs. and ends at 0600 hrs.
>You are to be in attendance at the Security Hand-to-Hand testing
Crow: [gruff sergeant] Howąs your right hand, Lieutenant?
Mike: [squeaky private] Fine sir.
Crow: Howąs your left hand?
Mike: Fine sir.
Crow: Very good. Next.
>starting at 0630 hrs. No other scheduled events have been
>located."
> Ptzzrr stepped out of the shower stall, the water glistening
>off her leathery green skin.
Crow: This is what happens when you fall asleep under a tanning
bulb.
> "Who else will be in attendance?"
> "All other Security Personnel not currently on assigned duty
>at that time." replied the computer.
> "Good, it's about time come of those lazy people on Alpha and
>Beta shift had work to do." She began putting on her Uniform,
>attempting to make it stretch properly to fit her massive
Crow: Naughty bits.
Mike: Crow!
> size
>and shape. "They never made these to fit reptiles." remarked
>Ptzzrr with some wit.
All: Thatąs *some wit!*
> A quick laser-grooming of her ebony
>claws, attachment of her arm-wraps and she was ready to face the
>Galaxy.
Crow: With the worst breath of the day.
> However, there was admittedly
>one more task to perform.
Mike: Annotate Finneganąs Wake?
Crow: Prove Fermatąs last therom true in a purely euclidian
universe?
Tom: Decipher Linear A?
> "Lt.Frageilux to ship's
>Repairs. My comm panel appears to need repairs, could you have
>someone sent up to fix it again?"
> A disgruntled voice echoed back. "Again?!" Could it be?
>"That's the third time this week?!"
Mike: [laughing] Property damage is fun!
> Yep, got the Tellerite. "Can't
>you Gorns get up quietly?!"
> "would you rather I slept in your bed Mr. Golarg? My offer
>still stands?" She smiled one of her trademark grins,
Mike: All grins are the property of Paramount Pictures. Any
unauthorized use of grins is an infringement of copyright and is
strictly prohibited.
> the large teeth designed for ripping glinted
>in the window's starlight. Oh how she wished that Tellerite in
>Engineering could see it.
> "Crew on its way Lieutenant." groaned Golarg. "PLEASE be
>more careful next time?! Out."
Tom: On a limb.
> A loud roar escaped Frageilux's throat as she entered the
corridor, causing many a new crew member to jump.
Crow: And wet themselves.
> "That Tellerite
>can be such a pushover," Ptzzrr mused, "if only people knew how
>to deal with him."
>
> Ptzzrr made her way to the dining hall. Right now the only
>people there were from the Alpha Shift, having late dinners or
>that last cup of coffee before turning in for the night.
Mike: Yeah, nothing puts you down like a pot of java.
> Ptzzrr
>swept the room with her silvery eyes, looking for an appropriate
>dining companion. She grinned as she located her Human
>commanding officer, Lt. Ireland, brooding over some data padds.
Tom: [pouty voice] Go away. Iąm brooding.
> But priorities first, she collected her typical breakfast. A
>cage containing small furry creatures with long pink tail, plus
>one other large box with air holes. the Trafalgar kept special
>stores for the unique diets of her non-himan crew members.
Crow: Mike, which ones are the non-himan crew members?
Mike: I guess all of them.
> And
>admittedly the replicators had trouble in creating mice.
Tom: Sheąs not gonnaŠ
Crow: I think Iąm going to be ill.
> "Good
>evening sir, might I join you?"
> Ireland looked up at what had created the monstrous shadow
>across the table.
Mike: The absence of light, perhaps?
> "Evening Ptzzrr. Go ahead." Ireland then
>settled back down and attempted to concentrate, with a great lack
of success.
>
All: It was faaaaaaaaabulous!
> The squeaking from the panicked mice was driving him
>to distraction. He placed down his current padd and stared.
Tom: Take a picture. It lasts longer.
> Ptzzrr paused in mid-swallow, she had noted that Ireland was
>looking at her directly. Ptzzrr quickly inhaled the offending
>tail from her latest victim. "Something wrong sir?"
Mike: [pointing] Youąve got some rodent on your chin.
Crow: Uuulgh.
> Ireland picked the padd back up from the table. "Why must it
>still be breathing?"
> Ptzzrr was used to having this conversation. "Our stomachs
>have trouble processing the nutrients if the food is cooked.
>Besides, the taste is much better if it's still kicking." she
>popped another mouse into her mouth, much to its protest,
Mike: [squeaking] I protest!
Tom: Overruled.
> to
>emphasize her point. She pushed the cage towards Ireland in a
>gesture of friendliness. "There's plenty to share, would you
>care for one sir?"
> Ireland, not known to back down, blanched.
Tom: Then Ireland turned green.
> "I'll pass this
>time Ptzzrr, the fur has a tendency to get stuck between my
>teeth." He began working on his data padds again.
> Ptzzrr chuckled "That's why the Fire invented claws."
Crow: Thatąs why the Water created pogo sticks.
Tom: Thatąs why the Air created styrofoam peanuts.
Mike: Thatąs why the Earth created argyle socks.
> A new voice joined the arguement. "Best of luck Frageilux,
>you should know my now that Human stock from Terra Prime isn't
>what its cracked up to be by Minerva."
Mike: Did that last sentence make *any* sense?
> they looked up to see the
>large muscled Human with black bush-cut hair standing there.
>Even without his attire of skirt uniform and ceremonial short
>sword,
Crow: You mean he was naked?
> which showed his Magna Roman heritage, it was clear who
>this devil's advocate was.
Tom: Newt Gingrich.
> His deep charismatic voice and
>expressions used were a complete give-away.
Crow: So itąs no use telling us who he is.
> Ireland looked up at the new arrival. "I've swallowed gold
>fish before, and eaten raw fish back home thank you, Ensign."
> Ens. Maximus now made an exaggerated move to retrieve a mouse
>from the cage. With a great grin on his face he held the
>protesting creature above his mouth.
Tom: Donąt you do that. Do you--
> Making sure Ireland was
>watching, he dropped the squirming mouse inside his mouth and
>began chewing.
All: Noooooooooooooooo!
Tom: This is sick, people. SICK, SICK, SICK!
Crow: *Iąm* sick. Ugggh.
Mike: Are you going to be all right, Crow?
Crow: Yeah. I think so
> He took care to spit out any offending bones
>onto the tray in front of him. "You know, a little monkey's
>brain jelly,
Crow: No Iąm not going to be all right. Uuuuuuuahhhh! [retches]
> and you'd have a real champion here." He removed
>the tail from his mouth last of all, placing it on the tray on
>top of the small pile of bones.
> Ptzzrr reached over, "May I?" At Maximus' nod she retrieved
>the tail and placed it in her gapping maw,
Mike: Itąs mouse backwash.
Tom: I donąt believe you just said that.
Crow: [retches some more]
Mike: Sorry Crow.
> looking eye-to-eye
>with Ireland the whole time. "the tails are one of the best
>parts, are you sure you won't reconsider sir? I brought dessert
>with me as you can see."
Mike: Want some hamster pudding?
Crow: [retches]
Tom: Geez, Mike, why donąt you just kick him in the gut?
Mike: Iąm sorry. I said Iąm sorry.
> Ireland was now retrieving his data padds. "That's quite all
>right thank you, see you both a 0630 hrs. Lieutenant, Ensign."
>Ireland now beat a hasty retreat out of the dining hall, much to
>the amusement of Vellus Maximus.
Mike: Isnąt that Latin for Big Velvet?
Tom: Too bad itąs not Blue Velvet.
> "I'm surprised Lady Ptzzrr!"
Crow: [Ptzzrr] Iąm surprised Lady Ptzzrr, too.
> Maximus was trying to control
>himself. "I never knew our Lord to be so squeamish."
Mike: Well, Godąs had the flu lately.
> Ptzzrr grinned that toothy smile of hers. "he isn't
>normally, but he saw what I had brought for dessert."
Tom: Hamdingers!
Mike: [jumping up] Where? Where?
Tom: Calm down, Mike. Itąs a joke.
Mike: Donąt *do* that!
> She now
>brought into Maximus' view the larger container she had retrieved
>earlier, which Ireland had been able to see and hear all along.
>Now Maximus could hear the chorus of meowing noises of several
>small kittens echoing from the larger box. Ptzzrr licked her
>lips. "Yum!"
> Even Maximus looked a little taken aback. "You weren't
>surely My Lady?"
Tom: [Ptzzrr] Sure, and then I was going to puree some puppies.
Crow: Uulghh. Not you too.
> Ptzzrr removed one of the critters from the box, a small
>white kitten. Its eyes were tightly closed and the fear was
>evident in its cries.
Mike: I *do* believe in Gorns. I *do* believe in Gorns. I do, I
do, I *do* believe in Gorns.
> "Oh no, these are being taken down to
>Sickbay for examination. They're Dr. Dunn's new litter. She had
>an emergency so she asked me to bring them down." A mysterious
>sparkle appeared in the reptile's eyes. "Of course, I seem to
>have forgotten to tell Ireland about that little fact."
> Their roarinf laughter could be heard across the hall. The
>friends settled down to enjoy their shared feast, much to the
>mice's annoyance.
Mike: [squeaking] Pesky carnivores!
>
> "Beta Shift is relieved."
Mike: [sighing] Man, that was a good BM.
> Lt. Martin was now accepting the
>Captain's chair from Lt. Cmdr. Cal, the head of Beta shift.
Crow: Now Lt. Martin is going to relieve himself.
Mike: I donąt think so, Crow.
> "I stand relieved.
Crow: See!
> No reports of an unusual activity,
>Sickbay reported one case of Tillurian Flu, Crewman Ut'war should
>recover by tomorrow evening."
Tom: Well, I guess dying can be seen as a form of recovery.
> Cal looked on as the members of
>his shift left their stations. His Bajorian features betrayed
>his desire
Crow: For pancakes.
> that something more interesting had happened. "Should
>be a quiet night Steven."
All: A *too* quiet night.
> "Famous last words sir.
Crow: Rosebud.
Tom: Either those curtains go or I do.
Mike: The rest is silence.
> Good Night." Martin settled into the
>chair, much like a prince does to a King's throne.
Tom: Itąs my throne and Iąll relieve myself if I want to.
Mike: Not you, now.
Tom: Youąre the one who started it.
> He was now
>calling up his Ops. control for a system check.
> Lt. Frageilux was now at Tactical. "Quiet night Chief?"
> C.W.O. Fizbin tilted back his fedora.
Crow: Itąs the young Luke Skywalker Chronicles!
> "Not a tinka', dem Crab
>heads are laying pretty low toots. Gonna takes a mugshot?"
Crow: [siren noise]
Mike: Pull over, buddy. Itąs the jargon police. Did you see how
you were slanging back there?
> Frageilux clicked her claws in the negative. "Only if the
>Cardassians do something interesting.
Tom: If only this fanfic would do something interesting.
> Good Night Chief."
Crow: Good night, McCloud.
> As
>Oxmox left Ptzzrr began a full systems check. "Do you think
>Eir'tha will be alright Linda?"
> The Human Science Officer behind her ceased her systems check
>to reply. "Tillurian Flue isn't fatel to Caitans, more like
>measles to a Human."
> Ens. Maximus had now manned his station at Helm.
Mike: Jesse Helm!
Tom: [southern accent] If the president is going to be in this
fanfic, heąd better bring a bodyguard.
> "Wonder
>what's taking Sillenn so long by Mercury?" A whoosh coming from
>the third turbo-lift
Tom: A screaming came across the sky.
> told them that their Medusan Navigator
Crow: Arenąt they the ones that drive people insane?
Tom: How are they any different than any of the other characters
in this fanfic?
> had
>finally arrived. The doors parted admitting a metallic box
(end part 1/3)